What If Collection 3: Rehabilitation of a Heroine
by Driven to Fight
Summary: After Xander finds out that Buffy and Spike have been sleeping together, he calls on the one person who he believes will both succeed and want to rid Spike from his best friend's life, and help her get back on track. (Set just after 'Entropy').
1. A FAMILIAR HAND TO HOLD

**Xander's Apartment**

Xander sat, slumped in front of the TV, beer in hand. But, he wasn't paying attention to what was on the screen in front of him. His mind wandered from painful thought to painful thought. Leaving Anya at the altar. Seeing her again. Her getting it on with Spike. And, worst of all, revelation that Buffy and Spike were sleeping together. _How could Buffy have let a soulless beast like Spike even get close enough to touch her? What the hell had she been thinking to let him get on her, or under her, or whatever? Must stop right now, not even gonna go there. _He was sick to his stomach at the mere thought of it.

He had hated the relationship Buffy had had with Angel. Just knowing that Angel was a vampire was more than enough reason for him to disapprove of that. But, at least Angel was good. He had a soul and he truly did love and care about Buffy. But, this, with Spike, it was mind-boggling. The Buffy he knew would never have let this happen. But, since they had brought her back to life and ripped her out of Heaven she had been different. He had tried to deny it, purely by ignoring it, but now he realized that by doing that, he had ignored her profound hurt.

The deep pain and regret that Buffy had suffered from being torn out of Heaven had driven her into the arms of Spike. He, Willow, Tara and Anya were responsible for that. So, now, he reasoned, it was his obligation to be accountable for helping her get back on track.

With those thoughts in mind, he reached for his address book that rested next to the couch where he now sat all too often, throwing back beer after beer, as he had been for the last few weeks since leaving Anya at the altar on that fateful day.

He flipped to the page he needed and grabbed the phone. He dialled.

It rang for a couple of times and then he heard that familiar annoying voice, "Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless. Angel speaking."

"Angel, it's me, Xander," he said, monotonously, and us unfeeling as possible. He hated the fact that he was about to ask him a favour. But, sometimes other things mattered more than the trivial personal issues.

"What's wrong? Is Buffy… is she hurt?" Angel pressed, trying to suppress his obvious anxiety. If Xander was calling him something was definitely very wrong back in Sunnydale.

"No, she's not hurt. But she could be soon. I need your help, Angel. This isn't easy for me to do, so I'm just gonna get right to it…" Xander began.

Over the next few minutes, Xander filled Angel in on how Buffy had been acting since they had brought her back from her deathbed. He told Angel that she had been in Heaven and not one of the zillion Hell dimensions that they had all assumed. And, finally he told him about her relationship with Spike. Before he'd finished explaining the last part Angel had interrupted him, telling him he would leave for Sunnydale immediately. He had then abruptly hung up the phone. It was then that Xander had realized that Angel knew Spike better than any of the Scooby Gang. If he was that concerned about Spike being with Buffy, then clearly, Buffy was in far more danger than even Xander had foreseen.

**#**

**Buffy's Bedroom **

**A Few Hours Later**

Willow sat opposite Buffy on her bed. They had been talking for the last hour about everything that they had been ignoring for months since Willow had brought her back.

"Buffy, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you like you needed me," Willow half-whispered, with her head down.

"Will, its okay. There's nothing anyone could have done. It's something I had to work out in my own head," Buffy told Willow, patting her on the shoulder.

Willow looked up, "But, I could have, you know…. done something, Buffy."

Buffy didn't answer. She just gazed at Willow sadly.

"You should have told me about Spike. I could have helped you."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's just….I couldn't admit it to myself. I was ashamed, Will," Buffy struggled to say as tears streamed down her face.

"Buffy, don't cry. I understand."

Willow reached over and embraced her. Buffy rested her head on her shoulder and Willow held onto her tightly as she cried. Even a Slayer had to let it out sometimes. After a while, Buffy pulled away and started to dry her tears with the sleeve of her sweater.

"First thing tomorrow, I'll take Spike off the welcome vampire list. There's no telling what he might try to do now that you rejected him, Buffy."

"You're right. That thing with Anya was just the beginning," Buffy realized, out loud.

Buffy shook herself out of her melancholy, knowing that there was work to be done. She got off the bed and quickly checked her face in the mirror. She looked okay. There wasn't too much blotchiness from her tears. She swiftly turned to Willow, "Will, we better get to work. I want the Trio gone, as of today. I've had it with them," Buffy said, the Slayer in her talking.

**#**

**Spike's Crypt**

Spike paced his crypt restlessly. He gripped a beer bottle firmly in his hand. How had he reached this point in his undead life? How had things gotten so bad? He couldn't feed. He was in love with a vampire slayer. He was torn between being a vampire and being a man. He couldn't be bad. He couldn't be a monster. And, he couldn't be one of the good guys. He didn't have a soul. Buffy was right when she'd screamed those words at him. Where the hell _did_ he fit in? What was his purpose, because if he couldn't be free to express his true vampiric nature, what the bloody hell was he supposed to be? More to the point, what was he supposed to do?

His head was filled with emotions that, without a soul, he wasn't capable of understanding. Yet, he knew he had them, but he wasn't capable of doing anything with them. It was excruciatingly frustrating. No one could even hope to understand. Many a time he cursed himself for returning to Sunnydale to search for the Gem of Amarra. If he'd only stayed away he wouldn't have a damn chip in his head. Everything would have been fine. Simple. Like it had been. That was the beauty of vampirism; the undead life was wonderfully simplistic.

Yet, things were as they were right now and it couldn't be escaped. He had to do something to turn this around. This Slayer was in his head, infiltrating his very being. Thoughts of her consumed him. His desire for her burned his flesh. He craved her like he craved fresh human blood pumping through veins. And, as a soulless vampire, one thing he did know was that if he wanted something, he would take it.

Buffy had turned him away and he had merely accepted it. He'd looked elsewhere and found comfort in the arms of Xander's ex, Anya. That hadn't ended well at all. But, the question had become, since when had a vampire needed to turn to a human for comfort? It was ludicrous. How dare he let himself accept Buffy's rejection? _Time to remedy that. _

He strode out of his crypt, determined to rectify some unfinished business between him and Buffy. If he wanted her, he'd damn well have her. It was his nature. It was his bloody personal anthem for goodness sake.

#

**Shady Hill Cemetery – Later that Night**

Buffy strolled, stake in hand, through the moonlit cemetery on her regular nightly patrol.

Willow and the rest of the Scooby Gang were researching over at Xander's for more information on the Trio. Well, to be more accurate, Willow and Tara were still working on those computer disks that Buffy had taken from the Trio's hideout, while Xander and Dawn munched on some chips, and casually watching television, while adding 'helpful' comments every now and then.

As Buffy strolled by a couple of mausoleums, she suddenly stopped cold. She sensed something. She tensed, slowly scanning the perimeter for a minute of two, all the while, listening intently. She knew she wasn't wrong in feeling a strangely familiar presence. But, she couldn't locate it. She continued onwards and then the feeling was suddenly gone. _What the hell was that?_

Unbeknownst to her, Angel crouched on the rooftop of one of the mausoleums, watching as she made her way cautiously through the cemetery. He had watched her stop and search the cemetery for something, for someone. He knew she could sense him. They could always feel each other nearby, but he was a little surprised that she had not realized it was _him_ she was sensing. Times truly had changed and so had they. Even from where he hid in the shadows he could smell it on her; the scent of Spike.

#

**Summers' House**

Having taken a shower to wash away all the dirt and sweat of patrolling Buffy wrapped herself snugly in a white cotton towel and headed for the kitchen to make something to eat.

She started to warm up some pizza from the night before in the microwave. She watched the microwave hypnotically as she leant against the kitchen counter. She rubbed her side gently. It ached from a fall she had taken during a fight earlier.

"You're hurt," a familiar voice said, entering through the kitchen door.

Buffy looked up to see Spike standing there, looking concerned.

"Get out," she ordered him.

"No. We need to talk about what happened the other night, love," he said, approaching her.

"There's nothing to talk about, Spike," she told him, as she removed the pizza from the microwave.

"I know you're upset about the Anya thing. I didn't mean for it to happen. I'm sorry."

"Spike! I don't care. We're not together. Understand that!" She turned to face him, her eyes cold, "Now get out of my house."

She didn't even bother to watch him go. She was tired of it. She was tired of what had been happening with them for far too long. She just wanted it to end.

She started to walk away but was stopped as he roughly grabbed her by her shoulders.

"I love you, Buffy!" he bellowed.

"No you don't. You can't. You don't even have a soul," she replied, shaking free from his grip.

"You don't get to just walk away from this," he told her as he started to feel her up.

He slammed her hard against the wall of the kitchen. She cried out in pain as he slammed her bruised side into the kitchen counter. He ran his hand under her towel, as he undid his pants with his other hand.

"Spike. No. Stop!" Buffy screamed.

He wouldn't listen. She threw a punch at him, but he saw it coming. He took hold of both of her wrists, holding her down as he kicked her legs apart. She panicked and she found herself begging him to stop. He wouldn't listen to her, even as she writhed in pain beneath him. It just seemed to spur him on more.

Suddenly, he was ripped away from her. He flew across the other side of the kitchen and crashed to the floor.

"Get the hell away from her," a voice bellowed.

Buffy sat up slowly, clutching her towel to her chest to hide her semi-nakedness.

It was then that she saw Angel standing before her. His back was to her as he headed over to where Spike lay, sprawled on the floor.

Angel wasted no time in hauling Spike to his feet. He lifted him up by the collar of his jacket and shook him violently, "You son of a bitch. You don't get to touch her. Ever. Understand?" Angel screamed at him.

"Funny thing is mate, I've been pounding her for months now," Spike informed him, with a smirk.

Angel shot out his fist and Spike's head flew back. He tried to grab his face, but Angel didn't give him the chance. He just kept hitting him relentlessly.

And then Angel withdrew a stake. He raised it, preparing to plunge it into Spike's heart, "I should have done this a long time ago."

"Angel! Don't!" Buffy shouted.

Angel's amazing reflexes allowed Spike to live, because he stopped, mere centimeters before Spike's chest, after hearing Buffy call out to him.

Angel reluctantly let go of him and took a step back from him.

"Angel?" Buffy called to him, softly.

He turned to her quickly, trying not to let Spike out of his sight. His expression softened and his vampiric features quickly morphed back into his human features as he looked upon her. Her eyes were red from crying and tears still welled in her eyes. The towel that she held up to herself was torn in places and barely covered her, revealing a couple of bruises on her thighs where Spike had hurt her. Seeing her in such a pained state, his anger returned. He turned away from her and hurried over to where Spike was. He was on his feet and watched Angel as he approached.

"So, the hero returns, eh? Just in time? I think not, Angelus. The Slayer's with me now."

"Like hell, she is, Spike. When a woman is crying like that, it means stop, you son of a bitch."

"I love her."

"What?" Angel asked, incredulously, taken aback.

"Spike, get out," Buffy ordered him.

Spike unclenched his fist, which he had planned to slam into Angel's solar plexus. He stared at Buffy. It was then that he actually realized what he had done. He had tried to force himself on her. _What is happening to me? _He didn't understand what he felt anymore. It was too overwhelming. _It's this bloody chip_! He didn't know what was going on. What was he? A vampire or a man? He bolted through the kitchen door and into the night.

Angel watched Spike go. He turned back to Buffy. He walked towards her and laid his hand gently on her shoulder. She shuddered at his touch. In that moment a part of him died, knowing that Spike had caused her to react that way. He was so thankful that he had stopped Spike before he had succeeded, because, had he not, the scars of that may have run too deep to ever completely heal. He gently pulled her close and held her.


	2. LOST PURPOSE

Angel sat beside Buffy on the couch of her living room. He held her hand tightly, refusing to ease up on his grip. He had offered to get her some clothes, but she'd just looked at him silently, no expression on her face, no emotion.

Since then, they had moved to the couch, where she'd sat, unmoving as she stared aimlessly at nothing in particular, while she protectively clutched her towel to her chest.

"Buffy?" Angel spoke softly, turning to her. He touched her arm gently, trying to snap her out of her motionless, silent state.

She noticeably flinched, pulling her arm away from him. She looked up at him and saw his hurt expression, "Angel, I'm sorry…I…. uh…. didn't mean…. I just…."

"Buffy, are you okay? Talk to me" Angel said, masking his sadness at seeing her like this.

He had never seen her like this before. She was so vulnerable. So hurt. So lost. It pained him to see her in so much pain and to be so close in proximity to her, yet unable to reach her, to save her.

"Angel? What are you doing here?" Buffy asked him.

Angel attempted to formulate an explanation to give her, but was rescued from that fate by Xander's sudden entrance into the house. He looked at Angel and Buffy sitting on the couch, then directly in front of him, to see Spike's leather coat hanging off the banister, then back towards the couch again. Without saying anything, he walked closer to them. It was then that he saw Buffy's reddened eyes and the distinct bruises on her leg and neck.

"What the hell happened here?" he asked, incredulously. All he could determine was that Spike had a part to play in all of this, and knowing that, he knew something awful had happened.

"Xander," Buffy said, surprised, quickly covering her leg. She let go of Angel's hand and put it to her neck, to hide her bruise from Xander's view.

Xander turned to focus on Angel, "Angel."

"Xander," Angel responded, as kindly as he could manage.

"So, Mr. Undead Headcase was here, huh?" Xander asked Angel.

Angel nodded.

"What did he do, Buffy?" Xander asked, concerned at seeing her in such a dishevelled state.

"He tried to…but he didn't. Angel showed up."

"He tried to what? Rape you?" Xander realized suddenly.

"Xander…. just don't, okay?"

Xander turned and paced the living room, throwing his hands in the air. He slammed his fist against the banister where Spike's coat laid, "That sick son of a bitch! He thinks he can waltz in here and attack you? Well, he's out of here. He's out of this town, Buffy! Anyone disagreeing with me here?"

"Just leave it, Xander," Buffy said, starting to get up.

"You have got to be kidding me. You still won't kill him even after what he's done now? What is wrong with you?"

"Okay, okay! That's enough, for tonight," Angel said, commandingly, rising quickly to his feet.

"Alright," Xander sighed, "I'm sorry, Buffy. It's just…'

"I know," Buffy said, sorrowfully.

Standing just behind her, Angel put his hands comfortingly on her shoulders and she flinched again. Xander and he exchanged a look of concern at her reaction.

"I'm going to get some sleep," Buffy told them.

She walked past Xander to the staircase. As she started to climb the stairs she stopped and turned back to them, "Angel?" she said.

Xander glanced at Angel, and as Angel passed him, he whispered to him, "Take care of her. We'll deal with this tomorrow, _after_ the sun goes down, of course."

Angel discretely nodded in response and followed Buffy up the staircase.

Xander watched them go, then let out a profound sigh. He paused, considering for a moment, if he should stay in the house with Buffy. Then he realized that Angel was probably the best person to be with her, comforting and protecting her at this time. Trusting in that, he headed home.

**#**

**Streets of Sunnydale**

As Xander made his way home, he couldn't help feeling as though it was partly his fault that this had occurred. After all, if he had been more observant, he would have noticed just how much pain Buffy had been in, how far she really had slipped. His best friend had been barely hanging on, and he hadn't even seen it. This wasn't like him. He had always been the one who had observed everything. He had seen Buffy and Riley's relationship collapsing a year ago. He had seen the turmoil she had been in after the Master had killed her, albeit for a couple of minutes. And, he wished he had seen this thing with Spike. He loved Buffy with all his heart. The three of them; Buffy, Willow and he; had been through so much together. They had faced things beyond most people's comprehension and they'd had always had each other's backs. It saddened him that, this time, he had been too late.

He vowed to himself, as he continued on his way home, that the damage Spike had caused would be the final act of evil that he would ever commit. It would be the last thing he ever did.

**#**

**Buffy's Bedroom, Five Minutes Later**

Angel had his back to Buffy, as she changed into her nightclothes, while talking to him.

"Thanks for coming all the way down here, Angel. You really didn't need to. _I _can take on Spike."

"That's not why I came here…well, not the only reason." He moved to turn around, but quickly caught himself, "Can I…?"

"Yeah, sure," Buffy said, barely paying attention.

Angel turned around and immediately realized he had turned around a little too soon. He shunned the amorous thoughts that came to mind upon seeing her half-nude form mere meters in front of him. He knew it was merely a natural instinct, because he would never stop loving her, however, he reprimanded himself nevertheless. Now was not the time, nor would there ever be any such time.

Buffy moved to sit on the edge of her bed, "Try to get some sleep, I'll be downstairs if you need me. You're safe," Angel told her.

He turned to go, having decided that it would be best to continue their conversation in the morning, when she had had a little time to recover from the shock of tonight's events and was a little more lucid. But, as he turned to leave, she called to him.

"Don't," she spoke softly.

Angel spun around to face her again, "Don't what?" he asked her gently.

"Will you stay with me tonight…. here? I don't want to be alone, Angel."

Angel hesitated for a moment, comprehending the implications of such a situation of closeness between them. Then, he thought better of it. She needed him, and after all, that was why he was here, to help her, like she had helped him when he'd been brought back from Hell. He couldn't deny her that.

He eased into the bed, beside her. She moved closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. In response, Angel slowly moved to envelope her in his arms. This time she didn't flinch at all. He could feel her heart beating gently against his chest as she lay, sheltered in his strong embrace. He didn't say anything, as he stroked her hair, urging her to sleep.

After a few moments, she spoke, "Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"I feel like I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm so lost. I don't know why I've done certain things. I knew they wrong, but…. I just…. I don't feel _anything."_

"Give yourself time. It will come back. It's a huge shock being brought back from the grave," Angel told her, knowing that feeling all too well.

"But, there has been a lot of time. It's just, I don't understand _why_ I'm back. I served my calling as the Slayer. I was done. Finished. And, now...I'm back. And…never mind…." Buffy struggled.

"And, what, Buffy?" Angel pressed her.

"And…. I don't want to be here. I was happy, Angel. How can I go on with my life, knowing what has been taken away from me…what I had?"

Tears welled in her eyes, and she fought to force them back, to compose herself. But, she couldn't and they slowly began rolling down her cheeks.

Angel rolled to face her, and held her by her shoulders, "Buffy, look at me."

Silently, Buffy looked at him.

"I've been re-born two times, Buffy. I understand what you're going through. You saw the state I was in when I came back from Hell. I didn't understand why I was back either. But, the fact is that I was sent back. We have a higher purpose, Buffy. We are needed here. Our time is never truly over. That's what being a champion means. And now, I'll tell you what you told me, when I couldn't find my strength. Sometimes life is fighting, Buffy; making it through the ups and downs. You have to fight this now. Yeah it seems hard right now, but you have the strength. I know you. I know you will get through this. And, until you do, I will be here with you."

"Thank you," Buffy said, with a smile of gratitude.

There was a long pause and then Angel spoke again, "And, as for Spike, well, that's the easy part. I'll take care of…" Angel began, but as he talked he looked down at Buffy and noticed that she had fallen asleep. He didn't say another word, and he dared not move, in fear of waking her. Instead, he just watched her sleep.


End file.
